


Its Cold Outside (In a Hunter's Arms)

by maccabird_23



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3145715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maccabird_23/pseuds/maccabird_23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s when Patrick felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Turning quickly he was met by a tall figure, clad in fur and animal skins. He had to be a hunter and a good one at that. The stranger with black eyes stepped closer and Patrick flinched away but the man only gripped him tighter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Its Cold Outside (In a Hunter's Arms)

 

Patrick had been walking for days, only stopping to rest and forage. Both were becoming increasingly difficult as the frost laid the ground bare. Frostbitten dirt almost impossible to sleep across and worst to dig through for bugs or barriers.

 

He had been separated from his tribe almost six nights ago when raiders had attacked them while they migrated to their south borders. They had been too close to dangerous territory but desperate as their food stock ran low. In the end they had paid for it in blood.

 

The fur-clad men had seemingly come out of nowhere, hidden by the shade of the tall forest. They had come swinging, axes and spears cutting through flesh without mercy. He had watched his family run, scatter into the trees and riverbanks.

 

He walked, feet bloody and wounded at the side from a spear but he hoped to find his family. Hoped that they were still alive for him to find. Pat feared that he would not survive long enough even if they were.

 

The fire he built turned into smoke and embers within minutes as a fresh layer of snow fell. He checked his deerskin pouch, seeing only a few leaves of medicine left. He considered if he really wanted to clean his injuries and seep the wounds in the healing leaves or just eat them.

 

He wasn’t sure if infection or hunger would get to him first. He didn’t have the energy to walk any farther so Patrick huddled by the ruined fire. Snow bit into his skin as he thought about his tribe. He remembered being a little boy preparing for their great migrations with delight. Wondering what fruit and animals their far off lands would bear.

 

It was the smell that caught his attention first. Quickly turning to the edge of the woods he saw the smoke rising from the ground. A single strip of smoke and the smell made Patrick’s mouth water. Scurrying over he saw a chunk of meat, roasted and steaming on the ground.

 

Without thinking about its origins or safety he bit into it, his fingers burning and juice dripping from his mouth. He barely slowed down to chew, the taste of venison bursting on his tongue.

 

Looking ahead, further into the forest he saw similar strips of smoke leading ahead. There were warning bells going off in his head but he thrust them away, not caring. Knowing that if anyone wanted to attack him he was easy prey, wounded and starving. He might as well die with a full belly.

 

The next piece of meat he chewed quickly, swallowing and trying not to choke. As he moved further into the forest he settled for storing the meat in his pouch. If some decided to attack he could at least hobble away with food saved.

 

The last piece of meat brought him to an enclosed clearing in the middle of the woods. The shrubs and branches stomped flat and in the middle was a deerskin tent, stretched along sturdy logs of wood. From the open flap he could see a hearty fire licking inside.

 

That’s when Patrick felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Turning quickly he was met by a tall figure, clad in fur and animal skins. He had to be a hunter and a good one at that. The stranger with black eyes stepped closer and Patrick flinched away but the man only gripped him tighter.

 

He was startled when something soft was thrust into his hands. Looking down he saw the man was holding a fur hood, bear or bison by the looks of it. The hairs were short but the coat was warm and new. Patrick wondered if the strange man had caught the beast himself.

 

He looked up, dark eyes meeting his as the man spoke to him in an unfamiliar tongue. Patrick shook his head, hoping the hunter would understand. After a beat of just staring at he each other the strange man just rolled his eyes before unfurling the hood and placing it over Pat’s shoulders.

 

The fur draped over him, covering his frostbitten skin from the elements and warming him to his core. As the hunter tied it around his neck Pat let out a sigh of comfort. He was warm with a full belly and for now it seemed he was safe. Unless this was all just an elaborate plan and the taller man was just prepping him to sacrifice to one of his heathen gods.

 

Patrick should have known it was too good to be true. Moments later the same fingers that were covering him were now undressing him. He met the hunter’s eyes, startled as he started to undo the ties at his shoulders. His thin tunic falling to his hips and only being held up by the rope that cinched at his waist.

 

The fur hood kept his back and arms warm but his chest was exposed to the frost of the night. He felt his nipples harden and torso prickle as the cold licked at his flesh. Hard fingers then started working on the tie at his waist and on instinct he pushed the hunter away.

 

He fell to the ground, looking up at Patrick with startled eyes. Then got back up, shrugging as he prowled towards him. Patrick expected anger and made his hands into fist, preparing to shield himself from oncoming wrath. The hunter grabbed Pat by the hips, pulling him closer until they were pressed against each other.

 

The brunet said something into Patrick’s ear but he just shook his head again, confused. Patrick didn’t know what the man wanted. Why did he give him fur and food if he just wanted to strip him of his clothes? He didn’t seem angry but his fingers were still forceful, groping at Patrick when the smaller man didn’t answer.

 

The hunter seemed to finally understand his confusion and without hesitating leaned down to kiss Patrick firmly on the lips. His mouth was dry but his tongue was moist as it asked for entrance. On instinct Pat opened up, enjoying the feeling of a soft mouth on his.

 

Patrick had so many questions for the hunter. In his tribe only men and women touched like this and only after they were bonded. Men only wrestled and hugged but never touched lips and tongue.

 

It should frighten Patrick, letting another man control him so intimately. They weren’t even bonded and as far as Pat knew they could not make a baby. But the man’s hard, fur covered chest rubbing along his sensitive torso sent sparks down his spine, pooling heat into his groin.

 

He gasped as he felt the man’s member, rigid and large. Rubbing against his own growing arousal. He couldn’t help but throw his arms around the hunter’s shoulders, finding balance, as he rubbed harder against him. The burning heat between his thighs was almost uncomfortable, his cock growing to sensitive.

 

The hunter seemed to share his sentiment, pulling at his ass with large hands until the man had him thrown over his shoulder. Carrying him into his tent Patrick wiggled, trying to find the friction that had been lost.

 

The inside of the tent was cramped, only allowing a small fur bedding next to the fire. A hunk of venison cooled on the other side. Patrick was unceremoniously dropped into those furs, feeling the heat against his face and soft bedding under his tunic.

 

The hunter stood mere inches away, staring down at Patrick so intensely he swore those eyes alone could undress him. There was a confident set to the taller man’s shoulders as he started to strip. His fur coat falling to the ground and Patrick didn’t know where to look.

 

He blushed as tan muscles were exposed to him. The hunter’s arms were strong and scarred. His legs were heavy and built for work. Patrick could tell every ounce of hard flesh was well earned. Every muscle telling a story about days spent stalking prey and brining it down with bare hands.

 

His fur tunic fell next and Patrick gulped at the hunter’s frame. His chest and torso were solid, like stones over flesh. His waist and hips were slim but strong with a layer of flesh that showed he was well fed.

 

Letting his gaze wander lower, he felt his cheeks heat at he laid eyes upon the hunter’s cock. His rigid member was thick and curved. Dark curls at the base trailing down the firm, round pouch of his balls.

 

Patrick got to his knees as the hunter approached, brining him level with his groin. Pat licked his lips as he leaned forward. He had never been this close to another man’s cock. He never fully understood how sex worked, except that bonded couples would lay together and then a baby came after winter.

 

He didn’t know much but he knew that he wanted the hunter’s heated flesh inside his mouth. The bigger man cupped the back of his head with a firm hand and that was all the encouragement Patrick needed.

 

Bring his lips to the tip of the hunter’s cock he licked at the flushed slit, earning him a groan. He closed his eyes as he let the head invade his mouth, his lips tightening around the shaft like a kiss.

 

The skin was loose and warm over hard flesh and Patrick could feel his eyes tear as he went deeper. The hunter’s taste lay heavy on his tongue, like spice and musk. The fingers at the back of his head pulled him closer, until he could feel the rounded head at the back of his throat.

 

Spit gathered in his mouth as he gagged but the hunter didn’t seem to mind. Patrick tried to breathe through his nose as he sucked harder on the shaft, spit dripping down his chin. He thrust his mouth forward, swallowing hard around the shaft as it invaded his throat.

 

Patrick started feeling light headed as the hunter’s cock plunged deeper and as he struggled to breathe. Suddenly, he felt a hand yank his head backward. His lungs burned as he gulped in fresh air, swallowing spit and juice that the hunter’s cock had leaked. Looking at the job he’d done he could tell the man was ready to come. His member a deep red and pulsing like the many nights Patrick has let his hands wander up his own tunic.

 

Falling to his knees in front of him the hunter grabbed at his hips, turning Patrick until he was on all fours like the wolves they kept as pets. He watched from over his shoulder as the man gathered fat from the roasted venison. He rubbed the greasy mixture between his fingers before bringing it behind Pat.

 

It didn’t take Patrick long to figure out where those fingers were going. He felt the pad of a fingertip rubbing circles at his opening, He gasped, cheeks reddening as he thought about what the hunter was doing. A single finger entered him slowly and he moaned as it sent electricity up his back.

 

The finger worked in and out of him for only a few minutes and he watched the embers of the fire slowly burn as his arousal rose. The second finger was uncomfortable and he felt stretched tight around them. He panicked for a moment thinking the fingers would tear him from the inside but then something was jolted.

 

He felt the hunter rubbing at something deep inside of him that sent sparks to his toes, causing his vision to blur with pleasure. He found himself thrusting back on those fingers, feeling as he took them to the second knuckle. His round cheeks slapped against palm as he used those fingers to bring him closer to the edge.

 

Then they were gone and the hunter was moving behind him, settling on his knees. He bent forward, resting his chest against Patrick’s back. His hands pushed at the ends of Pat’s tunic until his bottom was bare for the hunter’s eyes.

 

He groped at him, taking two handful of his ass and spreading them. Patrick could feel the kiss of cool air against his opening but it didn’t last long. Draping himself over the blonde’s back the blunt head of his cock nestled against Patrick’s hole.

 

The hot flesh breeched him a moment later and Patrick gulped for air as his muscles stretched to accept it. The hunter stopped once the tip was firmly in Patrick’s bottom. The blond struggled to relax, pleasure and pain searing him to the gut.

 

The hunter reached under him, taking hold of his flagging cock and stroking it with a greasy palm until Patrick was hard again. As he thrust forward slowly Patrick fell to his elbows unsure if the pleasure he was feeling was real. It was unlike anything he had ever felt.

 

It was like being forcefully invaded from the inside out. Patrick’s arousal was being wrung from him with each jab of his cockhead. The hunter did not relent, finding that place inside Pat that brought tears to his eyes and pelting it with each thrust. His hand a tight fist, working at Patrick’s cock with vigor.

 

The smaller man could do little more than just take it. Stretch his back and jut his ass back to meet the hunter’s savage tempo. Their bodies making an obscenely wet slapping sound every time his ass hit pelvis.

 

The staccato of ass against hip grew closer together as the hunter grew closer to completion. He tightened his hands around Patrick’s hips as he let out a guttural roar, thrusting deeper and dragging Patrick into his orgasm.

 

The hunter pulled Patrick toward him until his back was stretched taut against his chest. With shaky hands he pulled at Patrick’s cock. The blonde pushing into the hand and watching his cock head disappear and reappear between those slippery fingers.

 

Using his other hand the hunter cupped Patrick’s jaw, turning his head and meeting his lips with a bruising kiss. The taste of tongue, teeth and venison strong in his tongue as Patrick came. Pat moaned into the hunter’s mouth as his orgasm was wrung from his body, splattering against them.

 

The brunet sagged against Patrick’s back. His mouth exhaling hot against Pat’s ear and the smaller man went boneless underneath him. The hunter’s spent member slid out of his body.  He could feel fluid leaking from his hole and dripping down his thigh.

 

Patrick blushed, feeling an odd sense of shames and satisfaction knowing that he had done that to his hunter. Made him weak and brought him to his knees with his body. He settled against the furs, resting his head on top of the hunter’s chest.

 

The taller man wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his cheek into Patrick’s curls. He shivered slightly as cool air rushed into the tent. The hunter threw a fur cover over both of them and Pat sighed at the warmth.

 

He met his hunter’s eyes and he couldn’t fathom how he had ever feared his dark gaze. The taller man looked down at him with gentle, tired eyes. He looked younger than Patrick had first thought. He couldn’t have been much older than the blond.

 

Patrick cupped his bristled cheek, leaning into him for another kiss. The strange man had given him so much in such a short amount of time. Earlier that day Patrick would have never thought he would be lying here, wrapped in furs and a full belly. Let alone with a foreign man who would give him great pleasure and warm solace.

 

Breaking the kiss Patrick pointed to himself, the hunter tracking his finger as he brought it to his chest.

 

“Patrick.”

 

The larger man raised an eyebrow but nodded before repeating his name. His name sounded strange, like he was talking with a mouthful of water. Patrick found it endearing. Then he pointed at the hunter, pressing the tip of his finger into his chest. The brunet smiled like something went off in his head.

 

“Jonny.”

 

Patrick tried the name in his mouth, repeating it until each syllable sounded right. Jonny’s face brightened, nodding his head and rewarding Patrick with another kiss. Pat wrapped his arms around the hunter, brushing his fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head.

 

“Jonny, my hunter.” Patrick murmured against the other man’s lips. The brunet’s hands caressed at his sides, keeping him warm under fur and his own solid frame. “Thank you for brining me in from the cold.”

 


End file.
